It's Just a Slightly Increased Temperature
by xgraciela
Summary: Next Sick!Wilson story from my collection. Read to find out more! House/Wilson established relationship. Hurt/comfort with humor and a tiny bit of angst. COMPLETE.
1. Chapter 1

Wilson sighed as he closed the apartment door behind him. He wasn't feeling well and all he wanted was just a hot cup of tea, steaming bowl of chicken soup and a comfortable position on the couch, preferably under the blanket. But over the last few months of living with House again, he had learned not to expect food to magically appear in the refrigerator unless _he_ bought it.

There were some differences, sure, because now they weren't just friends anymore. It's a weird thing when your best buddy suddenly becomes your boyfriend, but Wilson got used to this feeling quickly. He wasn't sure about House though, because this ass still continued to mentally torment him, boyfriend or not. And still Wilson loved him, but they would have to talk about housework duties soon!

Wilson just shook his head and prepared a cup of tea for himself. He was too sore to make the soup even if there actually were any groceries left in the fridge. The mug was comfortably hot in his cold hands and he managed to get on the couch without any incidents. He stretched his legs and settled himself down. For a moment he thought about switching the TV on, but the building migraine and his tired eyes had their own mind, so he stayed as he was in the quiet and slowly darkening living room, hoping that House would be home early today.

The pounding on the door awakened him a few hours later. It was already dark outside, and for a moment Wilson wondered where he was. A quick glance at the clock told him it was about nine o'clock in the evening, which meant he had slept for almost three hours. Despite this fact, he wasn't feeling any better, but rather worse. A lot worse, if he thought about it. His throat was sore, his head was killing him and he was sure he was running a fever. Definitely not good.

The bangs increased and now they were also accompanied by House's voice. "Wilson! Get your fat ass off the couch and come open the door for a cripple!" Really, this man showed his love for you in every sentence.

Instead of an answer, Wilson just coughed and slowly made his way towards the door, blindly fumbling for the light switch on the wall and turning it on. It forced his eyes to blink several times, but then he could finally let House inside.

"What took you so long--", House stopped in the middle of sentence when he saw Wilson. The younger man didn't look good and the doctor in House was telling him to do something. However, House rarely listened to those inner voices.

Wilson didn't answer. He just shifted to the right to make room for House, who slowly limped inside.

"You look like shit." House stated matter-of-factly and Wilson just rolled his eyes.

"Great diagnosis..." He was surprised how different his voice sounded. It was almost like a howling sound from a wild animal. House evidently noticed that too and dragged his friend into the center of the room under the light.

Wilson tried to protest but felt too sick to complain loudly. In the bright place, House looked him over and felt his neck.

"Enlarged lymph nodes." He continued the exam by putting his hand on Wilson's forehead. Wilson leaned into the touch, because it felt damn good. "And you have a fever."

House led him back to the couch. "Sit down, I'll get the thermometer."

"It's not necessary; I'm not having a fever. It's just a slightly increased temperature in my mouth from drinking the hot tea," protested Wilson.

"Call it what you want," House answered as he went to the bathroom to fetch the medical bag.

Wilson sighed again and shivered. He was feeling really bad and House's poking and prodding weren't exactly helping matters. His throat tasted weird and it was already very hard to swallow. But still he had the feeling that maybe he could sleep off this stupid cold.

House came back few moments later with the bag in his hand and found Wilson in the same position where he left him. He put the bag on the table and went to the kitchen. When he reappeared, he was carrying a glass full of water in his free hand.

"Here, take this. It's for the migraine." He handed Wilson the glass and two small pills hidden in his palm.

Wilson looked at him in astonishment. "How do you know I ha--"

House cut him off. "You're always this annoying when you have one," he shrugged.

Wilson blinked in surprise, but took the offered medicine. His throat was almost too sore to swallow, so instead of finishing the glass off in quick gulps, he just took a few careful sips to prevent the pills from sticking themselves in his throat.

He put the half-full glass back down on the table and caught House's inquisitory look.

"Sore throat, " he half said, half squeaked.

"I see." In the same moment House already had his hands on Wilson's cheeks. "Let's see what you hide in there. Open your mouth!" It wasn't request, it was order, and Wilson shook his head.

"No, my mouth is my business. Go away House, leave me alone." That might have sounded reasonable if it wasn't for Wilson's squeaking. This way, it sounded just absurd and funny.

House smirked. "Ever heard of doctors being the worst patients? Come on, I'm not gonna bite you."

Wilson shook his head again and turned away from his friend. "Leave me alone House. It's just some stupid cold. You don't have to play doctor." He made a pause and realized that he had been quite harsh to House, who acted suspiciously nice tonight.

They were sitting for a while in the silence.

"Look, I appreciate your caring, but I just need a warm bed to sleep it off, do you think you can manage it?" He looked pleadingly at House who was evidently thinking about the next move.

"Okay, but I won't let you snuggle with me if you won't let me take your temperature." House grinned evilly and sat down next to him.

Wilson smiled and nodded. Taking the thermometer into his mouth, he leaned nearer to House and rested his head comfortably on House's shoulder. This way they stayed until the thermometer beeped.

"101.8. That's pretty high. You should at least take some Tylenol."

"No, please, you know I don't like to take any medication and I don't want to mix it with the Sumatriptan I had for the migraine." Wilson made a perfect impression of a very cute puppy dog looking upside on his master. This look was irresistible even for House, at least sometimes.

"Okay, but if you're not better in the morning, we are going to the hospital to see what's wrong. Blood tests won't hurt. Well, technically, they will hurt, but not _that_ much." House smirked again.

Wilson smiled back and nodded slowly. He knew that House was trying to make him better in his own way. And while this way was just rude and impolite to the rest of the world, for Wilson it was the music to his ears. To his surprise he noticed that House tended to be very kind and almost concerned when Wilson was sick even with the slightest case of the flu. It was a weird thing, but it never stopped amusing Wilson.

They made their way to the bedroom and House managed to tuck them both under the extra thick blanket, because Wilson was still shivering. As promised, House also allowed him to cuddle up, back to chest.

"What happened to you?" Wilson asked in a raspy voice.

"Huh?"

"You're being nice, what happened to you?" Wilson asked again.

"Who would buy my lunches, clean my apartment, wash and iron my clothes, pay my bills and most importantly, who would have sex with me if you died?" House answered with a mock innocence.

"And I thought you loved me," Wilson whined playfully.

"Nah, only post-orgasm speech," House mumbled but the arm he had around Wilson's waist tightened and the grip of his hand stayed firm until they both fell asleep.

* * *

Wilson woke up very early with a very bad feeling. He was still comfortably snuggled next to House but otherwise, every part of his body felt achy and sore.

He shifted restlessly in the bed, and after a while, he realized that the uncomfortable heat he was feeling was his own body. His cheeks were flushed and his ears were buzzing. Also, every slightest movement of the head made him want to jump out of his skin.

After a quick thought, he tried to swallow, but when he did, it felt as if some weird creature had settled in the back of his mouth and tried to strangle him with its claws. He wouldn't admit it in front of House, but tears appeared in his eyes from the pain. Wilson coughed, which made the pain thousand times worse and also woke up House, who shifted and slowly opened his eyelids to find his friend red-eyed, shivering, but still hot enough to fry eggs on his face.

House only moaned and closed his eyes again for a moment. His leg was giving him a morning lesson. He muted it with two Vicodins from the bedside table and turned over to take care of Wilson, who was suffering quietly beside him.

"Open up," House ordered and slipped the thermometer into Wilson's mouth again, while putting his hand on his friend's forehead. It was uncomfortably hot.

While they were waiting for the beep, House got up and started collecting his and Wilson's clothes.

"103.1. Nice. Now open your mouth and let me take a look at your throat."

Wilson knew that the examination was probably going to be uncomfortable since even the slightest swallow or attempt to talk hurt like hell, but arguing with House would be painful as well, so he figured he might as well go ahead and get this over with.

"My call is tonsillitis, but we have to rule out everything else and confirm if it's viral or bacterial. You know the drill. Now come on, get up, I won't carry you." House went back to collecting their clothes.

Wilson felt weak and shaky, and his legs threatened to give out on him. He hurt too much to talk, so he settled for approving and disapproving grunts. Together, they managed to get him dressed. House was trying to be helpful, but wasn't very good at it, and Wilson's shirt ended wrongly buttoned. From time to time he also measured Wilson's temperature with his hand, which Wilson found oddly comforting.

Thirty minutes later they made their way towards the car. House gripped his cane with one hand, and guided a shivering Wilson to the car with the other.

* * *

In the ER was some incompetent - at least for House's taste - young doctor, so House called for Cameron. Even with the slightest case of the cold, he trusted her more.

"House! What does it mea-- Ah! Hello Dr. Wilson!" Cameron greeted them. "What's wrong?" She looked at Wilson anxiously.

Wilson stopped shivering for a while and croaked. "Sorry, can't talk..."

She used her concerned gaze number 15 and turned to House.

"Do a swab, find out if it's bacterial or not," he said as if she knew the whole story. "If yes, prescribe penicillin for him. And do a blood test to rule out mononucleosis and other icky stuff."

Cameron turned back to Wilson. "Do you have a stiff neck?"

He shook his head.

"Fever?"

"103.1 when I last checked," House answered for him. "Go!" He yelled at Cameron.

"Wait a moment, I'm a doctor, let me do my job," she said, sounding a little annoyed.

"Dr. Wilson, do you have a headache?"

A nod.

"Nausea?"

Wilson shrugged. In fact, now he looked pretty pale and he wasn't sure if his stomach was just empty or queasy.

"Okay, lay down for a minute. I'll send someone in with a cold compress." She spoke kindly and quietly, but also firmly.

House was irritated. "Can't you just do the swab and draw his blood? Or should I do it myself?" he barked at her.

"Wait a moment! I need to get the supplies." She scowled at him and left the cubicle, leaving them alone for a while.

House seated himself in the plastic chair near the bed and propped his chin on his cane. In this position, he just stared at Wilson, who was wheezing slightly and trying not to swallow. The bed wasn't comfortable, but at least he got the blanket, so he was relatively warm.

"You know that tonsillitis is very rare for adults, right? Next prove that you are, in fact, still a big baby." House smirked and Wilson rolled his eyes.

"Don't know, who is older then." It was a lame reply, but Wilson felt too miserable to try to come up with anything better.

House continued as if Wilson didn't say anything. "Consider yourself lucky. In the past, the only treatment for this was tonsillectomy."

Wilson shivered and closed his eyes. Suddenly, he felt himself panicking. His throat felt as if it could easily close up! All worst-case-scenarios played in his mind and if it wasn't for House sitting close to him, he was sure, he would have been very near to some stupid panic attack. It was embarrassing, because he was a doctor for God's sake! But hospital can have a really bad influence on you, of course, if you are here as a patient. Well, at least in the most cases.

Cameron came back few moments later, holding the spatula for the swab in her hand. "Open your mouth, please."

Wilson complied and was surprised how gentle she was while taking the sample.

House sat quietly in his chair, not sure about his own feelings about Wilson being so sick and vulnerable.

Cameron produced a tourniquet from her pocket. "Okay, now I need your blood. Make a fist."

House thought that he was getting sentimental, because when Cameron missed on the first try and Wilson winced in pain, he winced with him and felt his heart beat faster. It also probably had something to do with the feeling he had about kicking Cameron out and doing the procedure himself.

Everything went fine on the second try. "I'm done," Cameron labeled the vial and turned to collect the swab as well. House made a mental note about Wilson being a little bit afraid of needles when being a patient, because his friend was in obvious discomfort during the blood collection. What a useful material in the future! House thought.

"The results should be back in twenty minutes. Stay here please." She looked more firmly at House than at Wilson though. "I'll bring you your medication soon." Cameron left the cubicle again and House inconspicuously shifted his chair nearer to Wilson. He took his wrist as if to check his pulse, but they both knew the real reason for the physical contact.

* * *

Soon to be continued :-)


	2. Chapter 2

Half an hour later Wilson was diagnosed with bacterial tonsillitis. Quite rare for adults, but, of course, curable, so he got his antibiotics and after House's insistence, he was also released to home-care.

"Here, take this," Cameron stopped them between the door and handed Wilson a pack of throat lozenges and a small bottle of gargle.

"It should help with the pain." She smiled reassuringly. Wilson tried to smile back in a polite gesture, but in his present state, he wasn't very good at it. House just scowled again and dragged Wilson out of the hospital, leaving Cameron behind.

Once at home, House settled him back into the bed, because the trip exhausted Wilson pretty much. The first dose of antibiotics in his system worked in a placebo effect and he felt slightly better, at least mentally.

"Open," ordered House and Wilson complied, feeling like a small child.

"Not so red anymore. It should be better tomorrow. Congrats, your childish disease seems to be leaving you."

Wilson nodded, enjoying the touch of House's hands on his neck. God, this man could be so gentle when he wanted!

"You should use some of the crap Cameron gave you. It's supposed to help you, you know."

"Okay, will you help me to the bathroom?" Wilson's voice sounded more normal as well, but still, there was some harshness.

House prepared him a cup of water with added mouthwash and watched him use the medication. The lidocaine in it helped with the pain in Wilson's throat.

"It's better. Thanks," Wilson peeped when he was being tucked back in their bed. The antibiotics made him better and he fell asleep quickly, so House could go call Cuddy that they won't be coming to the work for a few days.

It comes in handy when your boyfriend is sick and you don't have to go to work because of it.

Wilson slept the whole afternoon, which House spent with watching TV, playing games on his PS2 and surfing on the Internet. In the evening the alarm went off, reminding that Wilson should take a next dose of his meds.

House prepared a cup of tea - a very tough job for him - and went into the bedroom to wake up the sleeping beauty. He leaned down and kissed Wilson on the forehead, which also told him that the temperature was still pretty high. His friend shifted in the sleep and smiled slightly.

"Come on, wake up. Time for pills," House announced.

Wilson slowly opened his eyes. "What time?" He had learned already to shorten his sentences as much as possible.

"Evening. Sit up."

Wilson managed to sit upright, although his body had a different idea about comfortable positions. He obediently swallowed the offered pills and coughed. It only made the throat sting more and forced the tears into his eyes.

House put the glass on the bedside table and sat down on the bed next to Wilson, pulling him to himself. Wilson got the message and sagged towards House, leaning onto his side.

They stayed this way for a few minutes until Wilson's head started to fall.

"Make sure to be better tomorrow, because I suck at caring, okay?" House said, but Wilson was already snoring slightly beside him. House lowered him down and covered him with the blanket. Then he went to the bathroom only to come back in a few minutes. He undressed himself and lay down next to his lover. Carefully he wrapped his body around Wilson like the previous night and within few minutes, he fell asleep.

* * *

House was woken up by Wilson who was moving restlessly in the bed and half coughing, half wheezing and tugging at Houses arm.

"What's...wrong?" House asked sleepily. In a second he realized how stupid the question was, when Wilson could hardly talk. "Sorry, hang on." House felt for the lamp switch in the dark. When the dim light flooded the room, it was obvious that Wilson was in some kind of distress, but House was too sleepy to process the information right away.

He sat up and looked down at Wilson solicitously. "Hey! What's up?" He felt for his pulse. It was racing.

"Can't...breathe..!" Wilson wheezed and sobbed, panic visible in his eyes. He started to shiver.

House was quickly on his feet, hovering over him. "Wilson!" But Wilson seemed to be lost in his mixture of panic attack and the lack of oxygen.

"Wilson!!" House tried louder and surprisingly got through. He felt his own heart racing uncontrollably. Wilson stilled his eyes for a moment and focused on him, still wheezing.

"Can you get at least a little bit of air?" House asked and realized how stupidly he sounded. What the hell was wrong with him lately?

But Wilson seemed to consider the question and tried to suck in some air. Then he nodded.

House left him for a while and went to switch on the ceiling light and to grab his cell phone, calling 911. Then he turned back to his lover.

"Open your mouth!"

And Wilson did. His tonsils were so swollen that only a tiny opening remained between them to get the air in. Damn it, House thought, why Wilson has to do everything so thoroughly!

"It's okay, you're doing fine, try to breathe with me." He instinctively grabbed Wilson's hand. "Don't worry, it'll be good, they'll come soon."

It seemed to calm Wilson down but his lips were turning purple and House prayed to a God he didn't believe in to make the ambulance come fast.

"I'll get you some cold compress. It might help with the swelling." He wanted to stand up but Wilson's grip on his hand increased, so he stayed where he was with a concerned gaze on his face – something very unusual.

"S'rry...t' worry...u." Wilson managed to get out.

"Stop talking, you need to concentrate on breathing." House checked his pulse again. This time it was even faster.

When House started to think about doing an emergency tracheotomy, there was a pounding on the door.

The EMTs were quick and competent, which calmed House at least a little. Fortunately, the swelling wasn't as severe as House feared and the EMTs quickly intubated Wilson and started forcing air into his lungs with an Ambu bag.

The fever was still very high and almost dangerous, so he was given also the cold compresses and an IV with normal saline to get him hydrated.

When the nice, cold air flooded his lungs, Wilson started to feel a little bit better. The crisis was obviously over and it was visible even on House that he calmed himself down.

"Sir, will you ride with us?" The EMT asked when they were finished and had Wilson loaded on the gurney.

House nodded and left the apartment behind them, grabbing his jacket and not caring about anything else. All that mattered at the moment was being with Wilson.

The ride was quick, and soon after arriving at the hospital, Wilson was lying comfortably in the bed in the private room that Cuddy managed to find for him.

It turned out that the bacteria didn't react to the antibiotic Wilson was getting. It was no one's fault, so House couldn't blame even Cameron, but still he did.

They got him stronger antibiotics and he also got some painkillers for his sore throat. Wilson fell asleep almost immediately when the crisis was over. House meanwhile consulted the next steps in his recovery with the hospital's best ENT specialist. Dr. Jacobs was good and he tolerated House enough to talk with him, which was good, because the rest of the hospital probably wouldn't.

After that, House went back to sit with Wilson. No one noticed their interlaced fingers.

* * *

In the morning Wilson woke up still with the annoying tube in his throat. He smiled around it when he saw House sitting next to him, sleeping and with the hand still next to Wilson's.

Slowly he moved his own hand and touched House's fingers slightly, waiting for some sort of response from the other man. House stirred and opened his eyes slowly and lazily.

"Hey," he smiled at Wilson and brushed away some stray hair from his forehead.

"I've got some bad news for you," House said as he made the bad-diagnosis-face he knew from General Hospital. Wilson blinked and looked at him curiously at first.

House was checking his file now and taking a good amount of time to do so. "First of all, this thing in your throat can't come out yet, because the swelling refuses to go away. And second, Jacobs think they should remove your tonsils."

Now, Wilson's eyes portrayed a bit discomfort and the beeping of the EKG increased.

House smirked, but inside he felt a little bit uneasy. Even if it was a routine procedure, adult's throat heals more slowly and the whole surgery has a greater risk of complications. Nevertheless, he continued in his characteristic, rude manner. He was sure that Wilson would be more pleased to hear some witty comment than a concerned speech.

"Hey, just because you have a kid's disease, it doesn't mean that you have to act like one about this!"

The attempt at humor fell flat, and Wilson looked hurt as he tried to turn his head away from House. It wasn't easy though, with the strap holding the tube in his mouth. His heart was still beating a little bit quicker than usual.

"Come on, it's the best we can do for you to avoid this happening in the future. You have a long history of tonsillitis attacks, and they should have removed them ages ago." The words seemed to flow around Wilson with no benefit, so House continued.

"It's routine surgery and you'll get the full anesthesia, so you won't feel anything. As for bonus I might add me trying to be caring for extra couple of days and a lot of ice cream."

At this Wilson actually smiled and held out his hand for House, who caught it and squeezed.

"The surgery is scheduled on tomorrow morning," House pointed to the tube. "This should be probably out by that time."

Wilson nodded and closed his eyes. Exhaustion was taking its toll on him and even though he still a little bit dreaded having to undergo the surgery, now when House was with him and the painkillers in his system, he felt almost good.

House waited until Wilson felt asleep and then sat back down. A shiver ran through his spine when he realized how close Wilson was from suffocating yesterday night. He closed his eyes as well and sucked in a deep breath to calm himself. There was no point of both of them being worried.

* * *

Wilson was quiet the next morning, even though the swelling in his neck subsided and the tube was out.

"Time for your surgery," House announced and let a young nurse inside with the pre-op medication.

Wilson rewarded him with sigh and furrowed his brows around his, too apprehensive eyes for House's liking. "I know," he answered in a tight voice and held his hand out for the nurse to administer the medication into his IV.

House got the message and went nearer to grab his friend's hand. It was cold and clammy.

"Wilson, listen to me, everything is gonna be fine, don't worry, okay?" He got only a small nod as an answer, but Wilson didn't seem to believe him.

"I'll come for you in a few minutes when the team is ready," the nurse said and left the room.

Wilson shivered and House shook his head. "Stop acting like a big baby! It's not pretty and I like you much better when you smile." This earned one tiny grin on Wilson's lips.

In a while the nurse came back. "Ready?" She asked encouragingly.

Wilson nodded but squeezed House's hand tighter as if he didn't want to let go. House leaned down and whispered something into his ear. It made Wilson relax and release his hand. The nurse only raised her eyebrows but otherwise didn't say anything.

When she wheeled Wilson out of the room, his eyes were already closed.

House wouldn't admit it, but it wasn't very pleasant experience to sit in the observing room and watch Jacobs how he worked in Wilson's mouth.

The surgery was no longer than 40 minutes and everything went fine.

"There should be minimal bleeding, but he needs to be careful with a coarse food for a while. I'd suggest only fluids for the first 36 hours," Jacobs told House in the corridor. The good thing about this man was that he didn't mince words to say important things and got right to the point. House couldn't choose a better person to talk with.

He went slowly into Wilson's room and waited there till they brought his friend from the recovery ward.

Wilson looked peaceful and almost happy in his sleep. His lips were dry and parched from the surgery, but otherwise he looked fine and with the great deal of opiates in his body, he surely also felt fine. More likely he didn't feel anything.

The nurse set up the machines and left the room politely, which was a good thing, because House didn't have to yell at her.

He scooted closer to his sleeping friend and took his hand. "Hey, darling, wake up!" he joked.

House smirked when Wilson smiled and shifted his head.

"Come on, Wilson!"

It didn't take long for the sleeping beauty to open her eyes. Wilson looked at House lazily.

"Hey." He said quietly.

Instead of an answer, House kissed him passionately on the dry lips, wetting them a little by the process. Wilson's fever was down due to the antibiotics and his head was calm. However, his throat screamed for attention even with the dose of analgesic in his body.

"I hope you are not contagious any more!" House warned.

Wilson rolled his eyes, but didn't answer. The kiss felt wonderful and he was as happy as he could be at the moment.

End.

* * *

Thanks for reading!


End file.
